easy prey
by Dave Stridick
Summary: Your name is Dirk Strider, and you are a high class demon. You've had your eye on an interesting little demon hunter for a while now, and you think the time may be right for striking... if you can manage to pull things off right... Demonstuck (rated m for almost twelve pages of smut and other assorted things that i probably should not think about)


**Easy Prey**

**(((ii do not own home2tuck; ii am not nearly briilliiant enough for that olol )))**

You move through the annoyingly large house, trying not to make a noise. Stepping silently through the dimmed kitchen, you focus your attention on the small noises the floorboards make, any indication you might make that could trigger your prey's awakening. It wouldn't do to have his awareness of you spark too soon, would it?

A smile curls your lips far too high, a grin that would have never dared to enter a respectable demon's face on any normal day. Then again, who ever said you were feeling quite as normal as you were used to?

You had been watching this one, and you were anticipating him, even been planning to dispose of him in a different way than most of you demons might have normally.

Your kind was strong, stronger than those blasted demon hunters, and you were no different. If you were careful enough, this would go smoothly, and all would go in your favor.

You bite your lip in anticipation, your maleficent eyes widening.

But suddenly- heightened senses perk, a click is heard-

One slight movement is all you need to give yourself the momentum to hide behind the safety of a shrouding wall.

Well, well.

English is up, it seems. In the bathroom, and doing what, you wonder with a sly grin.

Water running, splashing, and a final yawn before another click is heard, the after burn of the light stinging your eyes momentarily, the soft padding of feet down the hall echoing.

_Excellent. _

You follow him down the hall, a short distance away, careful not to make a sound.

~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~

Well, the day had been long and hard, and if you do say so yourself, you, Jake English, deserve a cup of tea and a night of peaceful sleeping. Making your way down the hall to your bedroom, sliding jauntily across the polished floorboards playfully, you feel the satisfaction of a long 24 hours coming to an end. And your room only yards away, a sudden tug in your gut and a swooping sensation overcomes you all at once. Your smile falters, freezes, then an irresistible urge to turn around suddenly strikes you, but it is quickly shaken off.

Damn this large, empty house for scaring you on more than one occasion.

Too large for one person, all on their own.

Shrugging off your tweaked senses, you slowly trudge down a bit further but then, you think you can hear a giggle and, turning, eyes widening-

Stomach jumps, and you slam to the ground, fallen cup shattering hot tea all over the floorboards.

"O-oh my! What in the name of-?"

The dark figure kneels, comes uncomfortably close to you in less than a second- shushes you, far too drawn-out, far too deep, lulling.

A slender finger is pressed, no, caressed to your lips, then drawn away, and suddenly the shadow in front of you has disappeared.

Your furiously pounding heart is confused, and really you cannot do much other than stare ahead, blankly, trying to get a hold of your nerves.

Really, English, you should just get up and go back to your room, that's all. Has to be those damned demons playing around with you again.

Shaking horridly, you manage to pick yourself up, mind rigidly set on the goal of attaining your double hunting pistols to fend off and destroy the evil presence that had made its way into your home.

Stepping forwards, you feel a sudden, excruciating sharp agony and unable to bear it, you fall sideways, hitting the ground, shivering in pain. After a moment, you recognize the hurt centering around a throbbing in your foot, and push your back up against a wall, head tilting back onto the cool wood.

Bringing your foot up with two hands without hurting yourself is quite the struggle, but you manage to get the ankle safely rested onto your left thigh alright.

"D-damn it all... A piece of glass from that cup, huh? Well, I'm in no position to fend off any attackers, it seems... What shall I do?"

Thinking aloud helps clear a bit of your fear; you guess it must make this house feel less silent and foreboding. You hiss in pain as you shift up against the wall to get more leverage, reaching for the knife you keep strapped underneath your pajama shorts, but you just can't seem to reach it.

Perking up, you can suddenly feel that menacing aura reappear.

Finally, you can get a hold on your knife, but you fumble with it, feeling flustered and rushed, then lose focus on the presence altogether.

But looking up now, dagger in hand, it's too late, and you are being pushed to the ground roughly by something, and it clatters out of reach.

Silence.

Then, a small snicker, and soft giggling follows.

A smooth voice pours out, washing warmly over your numb and pain-wracked body.

"Seems I've finally caught my prey... hm? Not that it was much work..."

The dark figure grins and glances shortly at your foot, twitching on the ground in the cold air.

You say nothing, but ponder internally how a demon even _got_ into your sanctuary. You thought you had hid yourself pretty far away from the world, and every now and then a smaller level would get in, but one that had enough power to retain human form? Never would you have thought...

And now that you were incapacitated, there was _no _way you could defend against him.

You were dead, in other words.

Sniffing slightly, you notice the air around the two of you smells of chemicals and salt. The combination is somewhat intoxicating, though really unpleasant, and wrinkling your nose, you look the demon directly in his fiery orange eyes and glare with all your hatred, wanting him to know how exactly you felt of demons, feelings that of which were no different than any other hunter.

You move slowly, then lash out, digging your fingernails into the back of his palms roughly. His hand pulls away, and you can make out little bloody gashes before he licks them with a slow tongue, the wounds already healing.

It gives you a squirm of internal satisfaction when he hisses in displeasure. And now shifting over you, his body comes into the light a bit more, and you can make out his features better. The demon has spiky blonde hair brushing over his features, and orange fiery eyes highlight his face, lighting it aglow in this dark house slightly. A waving, pointed tail is noticed behind his back, as well as minuscule candy corn horns barely poking out of his hair. His lips are parted slightly, revealing elongated canines.

Compared to other high blood demons, he is dressed rather plainly. A black tank top and black skinny jeans with an orange belt.

When he speaks again, it is with a dangerous purr.

"Sssso, English... What do you think...?"

Your face must show the confusion, because he laughs at you, thighs digging into and tightening around your stomach uncomfortably.

And he brings his face closer to yours, sliding his hands up your ribcage as he goes, pulling up your shirt and exposing a tanned ribcage to the icy air, then over your head goes the shirt, but he stops at your wrists, and makes a sort of tie with the cloth there.

"...of this?"

You look away, eyes stinging with tears, not wanting to have to bear the sight of his facial expressions any longer. But now, broken in slightly, you speak to him, tone thankfully laced with malice.

"So, you're going to humiliate me while I'm wounded before you kill me?"

Shivering, you close your eyes tightly so that you don't have to see anything around you, anymore. You don't want to see your lonely house before you are killed. You want to think of your friends. Friends you treasure, dead and alive.

Damn it, it's too soon to cry!

Your eyes open slightly, tears slowly leaking out, and it stabs you in the gut to see the demon looking somewhat put off by this turn of events.

You... don't... want... to show weakness!

Gritting your teeth, you give an enormous amount of effort trying to throw him off, but he just comments,

"Ooh, I like it when they're rough...!"

He doesn't waste time in rolling your nipples in his fingers, prodding them with sharp fingernails, your body reacting in a way you don't like.

You have to hold back a noise, and it's hard to, since he was so sudden, and you have to concentrate not to make any recognition to this.

"Y-you won't have you-your way, demon... I... I _hate _you..."

He smirks at this, not at all offended, which stings.

"No worries, English... I'll have you begging in no time, hmmm?"

Your stomach lurches, and you feel extremely threatened by the fact that he knows your name, and also that he means to torture you by way of pleasure, not pain.

Which in a way is worse. More humiliating.

You have to let out a small, _ah! _in surprise and pleasure when he digs his fingernail harshly into your left nipple.

His smile widens a bit, and he looks devilishly pleased, his blonde eyebrows knitting together.

And now, he moves forwards, grinding your two restrained cocks together slowly with small circular motions of his hips. A warmth begins pooling into your stomach, but now things escalate to a point where you need to bite your lip from making a noise, since the friction is so... nnh,_ good!_

He runs a freezing cold hand up your ribcage, heightened senses setting your mind ablaze, and for a scary moment, all you can think about is the warmth in your stomach, the strange scent settling into your mind, those ice-cold hands running up your bare chest, and the rapidly heating erection that was forming on your disloyal body.

Snapping back, you instantly hate yourself. You hate that you were reacting to _him_, to a demon, and that everything he was doing felt so sinfully good. You hated how he was doing everything _wrong_, but at the same time it all felt so amazing; he was hitting pleasure spots on your body you didn't even know existed!

And suddenly, a terrifying jolt washes over you, and you prop yourself halfway up on your elbows, drool pooling down from your mouth slightly.

The demon smirked at you, taking in your hooded eyes and red face that was so intoxicated in lust signaling that you really were weak, no matter what you wanted to believe.

He had your clothed bulge in one hand, his thumb pressed underneath it, and he was grating his fingers up and down over it. Head tilting back, you mutter for him to stop, but your words hitch, and all of the sudden an embarrassingly loud moan spills from your mouth as he leans, and presses a tongue to the underside of it, lapping playfully.

He pulls away, a string of saliva breaking, and he wipes his mouth, chuckling.

"You break so easily, English... I thought you'd put up so much more fight... I'm disappointed, to be honest."

Glaring again, you press your sights to him.

"What di-did you expect? I couldn't fi-fight a demon of your rank while I was fully awake and had no shards of glass crippling me, so expected me to be able to now? Why don't you finish then kill me, already...? Haven't you had enough laughs?"

He leans forwards, and you tilt your head to the side, not wanting him near. But as he begins to speak in a breathily dangerous whisper, you close your eyes tight shut, feeling those light hairs brushing over your face.

"Not quite yet... En...g...lish~~"

You take in a gulping breath, not liking the direction this is swiftly heading. Confused as to why he is staring at you like this, and not taking his part in further embarrassing you, it cannot be helped but to stare into his eyes, as you are taken by surprise in how _bright _they are. So orange, and tinted a lighter shade of yellow at the bottoms, and ringed in a perfect circle by a blood red line.

So... these are demon's eyes...?

His eyelashes are so _long_, and those soft strips of hair really are well-groomed, you must admit. His sudden voice startles you, and you flinch.

"Admit it."

Still breathing heavily, mind hazy in half-pleasure, you honestly don't register these words, or understand them.

"I-I-I don't..."

He rolls his hips over yours fiercely, and your head hits the ground, mouth opening in ecstasy. You know you won't be able to bear this much longer.

"Admit that you're aroused. Admit that you want me to keep doing this. _Beg _for my cock. I want you to scream for it to pound into you, harder and harder."

The dirty talking has the desired affect, your stomach beginning to rise and fall a bit faster now, but the lingering thought that this is wrong still lurks.

His hips are still moving slowly, your lengths springing over each other again and again, and you have to struggle to steady your voice and keep it reasonably lust-free.

"You're... sick and disgusting... You should be asha-ashamed..."

His eyes dilate at this, mouth shrinking into a small line, and he looks inquisitive, head tilting sideways and golden locks shading over his features.

"Ashamed? Why? This feels great, right? You want more, right?"

And unable to answer him from the sheer volume of pleasure you are receiving now as he makes his grinding faster, his hands rubbing at your nipples, you cannot do anything but weakly shake your head horizontally a few times before letting it drop to the ground.

The warmth in your stomach is about to burst forth, and you bite your lip in concentration, not wanting the demon to have his way, no matter what.

But then, he does something that you do not foresee. The demon stops rolling. He stops pressing your chest. He stops looking at you in that way you _knew _was supposed to set your mind ablaze. Even the scent invading your head seemed to recede somewhat.

And you don't have to hold yourself back anymore, because the pleasure has already faded to the point where you don't have to anymore.

And then, the smallest of smiles found its way onto the demon's lips.

And you _knew. _

But he gets there before you can even say anything.

"You're not allowed that luxury, yet, my little pet. Soon, though, I promise. First, I want you to scream for me." Here he places his hands at the waistband of your soft shorts, tugs at them sharply, and you wince. He glances up at you with a wild, warming grin and suddenly the iodine-like smell seems to increase by tenfold, making you want to gag.

Your shorts are pulled off, revealing that, yes, you sleep commando, and never before has this fact been embarrassing until today, when you see a significant change on the demon's face, taking in your naked form.

The strap where the knife was held is still in place, and it makes you feel wrong when it is displayed like this. It makes you unhappy, when he tugs at it, scraping and snapping it back with a clawed finger.

You want him to quit playing, to let you finish and then be done with it. But, no. He is a demon, and yes, you finally will give in at least to the fact finally that he is a very sexy demon indeed.

But, still, you don't want to make him happy. You don't want him to exploit every inch of your taut body, rubbing and stroking, throating, working his lips around- oh god.

He's now laughing, laughing at your cock, which already half-hard, has now swelled to an impressive size, only thinking about what comes next.

You cannot tear your eyes away when he lets his tongue loll out of his mouth, circle his mouth around the head of your dick with a hungering expression.

Instantly, your length twitches as his saliva drips down it from around his mouth, and the sight of your cock half in his mouth, almost falling out as he struggles to lap at the underside, the sensation heightening inside of you too fast is almost too much to bear.

You've _never _had anything like this done to you, and you've never really been the one for jacking off, so this amount of pleasure-disgust is too much.

The demon's style is strange, where his canines will scrape and drag painfully across you, licking the underside, pre-cum getting on his face, only to slide down quickly.

Still on your elbows, your head involuntarily tips back, and you let out a long series of moans that just... escape.

Never mind. You don't really care all that much any more. There isn't much fight left, because, what could you do to stop him anyways?

And just like that, you're broken in. And he can tell.

"Ddd-hhaaa! Shi-shit..."

He takes your whole cock in his mouth, and a shuddery hiss escapes through your teeth.

Instead of warmth, there is extreme cold, and for some reason this perks your senses even more, the feeling of his tongue curling around your head too much.

He takes his mouth away, letting yet more saliva drip down it, and he uses this combined with the smeared pre-cum to slide a hand warily up and down the base of you. A little squeak is released, and finally, your stomach shuddering up and down, you really cannot take it anymore, you think he's going to stop you again, and this time you don't want him to, but no-

He hollows his cheeks around your dick, while moving up, then down sharply, and this is all the persuasion you need to mewl his name in a whine, his every touch sending wave after wave of searing hot, amazing orgasms washing over your body, which is now racketed in mind-blowing electric sparks, dancing over your body and sending you into insanity.

Your teary eyes open, to find a blurry image of the demon, looking inquisitively at you, white splatters running down his cheeks and chin, just before he swallows.

Ah. So he caught some in his mouth...

The demon instead runs a soft hand over your sides, and you squirm away from it.

His touch is cold, and though you may have been ignoring your body temperature through the ministrations, you really won't be able to handle this weather much longer.

"Almost done..." he hisses, eyeing your lower half with a hooded gaze.

"W-wait..." you punch into the air, "Can-can you... tell me your name?"

He looks as if he is going to laugh at this question, but you push that aside, honestly wanting to know. And finally, he runs a hand through his perfect hair with a sigh, and comes to rest a finger at your glasses, which knocked askew, have now been put back into place by his touch.

Then he speaks.

"Dirk. My name is Dirk."

Here he flicks your forehead and grins, pulling up your leg, pain shooting through it.

Breathing heavily, winded, you are about to mutter some sort of a recognition to this, but he sticks two fingers into your mouth, letting the leg drop. You stare at him, his face blank, glowing eyes revealing nothing, and, vigorously, you suck on the fingers, nipping at the pads slightly, and swirling your tongue around the digit.

Moments before it happens, you realize the meaning behind this. But, alas, it is too late, and your bottom is having two fingers shoved roughly into it's nook, the saliva sliding Dirk's fingers along.

You can't help but arch your back outwards slightly when he does this, more moans painting the frigid air with clouds of lust.

You're shaking to a ridiculous point now, every time he scissors your fingers, you can feel him _just barely _brush this certain spot, and oh god do you want him to hit it. If he doesn't press up against that spot _hard_, you're going to die, you will freaking drop dead, you just know it.

Your hand trembles, and you bring it up to your cock already wet with cum and saliva, and, with teary eyes, begin sliding a hand up and down your hardness. Your head tilts back, the combination of the two movements making you positively dizzy.

After a moment, his free hand comes up to grip over yours, the strokes becoming far more rapid, both of your breaths more frenzied.

And, finally, Dirk enters one more finger, and all at once, he thrusts them onto that spot you just _knew _he was saving for the last climax; you simply cannot take it anymore.

"Di-di-irk! I-I'm going to co-come- ahhhh!"

These words slip past your lips, without any meaning to- you feel a squirm when you see his expression means that he is genuinely pleased.

Moaning over and over again, every time he hits that one spot, you just can't_ stand _it!

The demon sends you over the edge yet again, and you grip the floorboards with an intense hold, the searing heat pooling out onto your body.

You mentally and physically collapse, not wanting any more of this to go on. You're broken down, broken in, finally, and no longer can you take this beating to your body.

But that doesn't necessarily mean that the demon is done with you.

He pulls himself up so that his lips are brushing your forehead, shifts his fingers from your cock to your chest, sliding, then prodding at your underarms, up your elbows, and he entwines your fingers in his. His chest is sliding over yours, up and over you, dominating you, his legs coming up to straddle your waist nicely, the fit quite comfortable.

You finally open your eyes to find him there, above you, smirking, with hooded eyelids, and that's when you knew what he was going to do.

Kissing you. A demon was kissing you. Never would you really have dreamed that a day such as this would come. No, night. This was nighttime, and you were being kissed by a demon right before he was about to kill you.

So, if he really wanted to execute you, why was he ripping open that cloth shirt you had been wearing around your wrists? Perhaps letting you free your sore hands so that you could involuntarily reach up to grasp at his hair, tugging at the back of it, clawing at that soft down near the nape of his neck, so that you could have just a _bit _of freedom before the final deed was done?

God, you couldn't take it.

His tongue was sliding over your messily, almost unskillfully, but no, it was all adding to the crazed battle of insanity between the two of you.

Your teeth click together right before he slides away, and Dirk gnaws on your bottom lip, getting your mouth to open; you let out a drawn out, yet entirely oral representation of your current pleasure level.

He smirks into your lips at this, and then drawing away, whispers softly:

"The end is near, my little pet. Why don't we finish up, since we both know that there are things to attend to...?"

Your closed eyes flutter open. You're confused. What exactly does he mean, things to do?

"I... Di-dirk, wha...?"

He scoffs, and looks blankly disappointed in you, though his voice is steadied and calm, almost bored.

"You know... I have to get back to base, and you're obviously tired, so you need to sleep. It's not that hard to figure out, English."

You look at him with wide eyes.

"...not? Not... going to kill me, then?"

He stares.

"I never really planned on doing that, to be honest."

Now it's your turn to stare, but he lets out a breathy laugh, and waves a hand, almost as if he's regarding this whole conversation as a joke.

"Haha, ju-u-u-ust kidding~ I guess it all really depended on how good of a fuck you were. Why don't we finish up here, hm? That way we can decide your fate."

You _stare. _

So he's saying that, depending on how sexy you are during this, he might let you live or not?

What a dumb, dumb situation this is to be in.

But you sigh.

It's not bad, other than the humiliation, really.

So you accept it, when finally, he removes his lower clothing(as you look away, really quite wanting to get through this).

Your bottom is grabbed by merciless, cold hands, and you are shoved upwards.

Suspense.

And all you feel is a heightening in your stomach and a fear that just wont stop.

Will it hurt?

Will you bleed?

Will he tear you open?

Is this where you're going to die?

_I don't want to die!_

Eyes clamping harshly, you don't want to see. And suddenly,

a voice. Shushing you. It's lulling, calming.

For some unfathomable reason, your muscles relax.

Right as he gives the first push in.

You squirm. It's strange, and yes, it stings. Burns, really.

He's rubbing against your insides and you gasp when he thrusts in a bit more. Lord, the farther in he goes the more your eyelids flutter spasmodically in uncontrollable ecstasy.

"O-oh my... Dir-rk... I- ah-h-h!"

He draws out, then pushes back in, your body convulsing to his pushes. It... fu-fuck, it feels _really _good! You can sense every single detail about this moment:

Your insides, tightening are contracting against his dick, as it practically penetrates into your stomach. You've been pushed up against the wall now, and sliding down for leverage, your legs have somehow made their way over his shoulders, one of Dirk's hands on the wall, fingers splayed widely as he breathes out in earnest from the exertion; the other is laced into one of your hands, your arm bent upwards.

God, you are _not _far off, and this has moment has been too short for your liking.

You want it to go on forever and ever, this moment with Dirk the demon.

You feel a swoop of pleasure, making your stomach feel as if it has dropped suddenly, and you give a sharp gasp- he's hitting that spot again- lord!

And, then all of the sudden-

"Fu-fuck, Jake, nnh~"

Your green eyes widen.

Is he...?

His bites down on his lip, hard, his fangs piercing, and he barely pulls out halfway, shivering, before he sends spurt after spurt of shockingly hot genetic material inside of you.

This sends you over the edge, now completely and thoroughly exhausted.

He lets your legs drop; his head falls into your lap, his chest rising and falling at a strangely fast rate.

"Di-irk..."

"Shhh... Be quiet, English."

"But, I..."

"Be quiet. I'm tired."

"..."

He sighs.

"Look, I'm not going to kill you, okay? As long as you provide enough entertainment the next time I come back."

You look up at him swiftly, a lump rising in your throat.

"Ne-next time?"

You can just feel the mockery in his mean laugh.

"Why, yes, I shall be back, my pet. The night is young, so you should be glad that I got tired early on today. But other nights, I'm sure that I'll have more energy. Then again, this _is _your first time, too, so I decided I'd take it easy on you, too."

"I...! How... how long are you going to keep coming back? And for how long?"

His next words send ice through your veins, and you want to cry again. But you don't. You can't.

So you accept the fate that has been brought upon you.

You wonder how many years, after every day of this heavenly torture it will take for you to go crazy?

You're probably already crazy, really.


End file.
